Neal's Sister
by the.authoress.15
Summary: Neal has a half-sister that he's kept a secret from everyone, but now someone wants to kill her and he, along with Peter and the FBI, have to find a way to get to the people that want her dead before she gets killed.
1. Jenna Bennet

Neal was walking along the streets of New York City when he sensed someone following him. He pulled out his phone, pretending to text but instead using the reflective screen to look behind him. He didn't see anyone noticeable, but that didn't mean anything. He put his phone away and turned the corner, stepping into a tattoo shop and looking out the window.

"Hey dude," a man behind him said, and Neal turned to see a bald man with tattoos covering his head and going down his arms standing there. The man appraised Neal and said, "This your first tat? You don't seem like the type."

Neal shook his head and smiled politely. "No, thanks. I don't want a tattoo."

The man scowled. "Then what're you doing in here?"

"Waiting for someone," Neal answered, looking back out the window.

"Well, unless your friend is coming for a tat in here, I'm gonna ask you to leave." The man said rudely.

Neal nodded, but not in agreement. It was more like he was affirming something to himself. He turned around, pulling out the wallet in his suit pocket that showed that he was a consultant for the FBI. He showed it to the man, saying, "I'm going to stay here and wait. If you try and kick me out of here, I can make one call – _one call _– and bring the full force of the FBI down on this place. I'm sure you wouldn't want to get arrested for the type of inks you use here. Not exactly good for business."

The man paled a little, but then he said, "And what if I just take you to one of my friends for a while?"

Neal sighed, putting the wallet back in his pocket as he lifted his pant leg, revealing the tracking anklet. "One, I've got a two-mile radius from the FBI office," he said patiently. "And if I take one step outside of that radius, it sets off an alarm that will bring the FBI here in five minutes. And if you try and cut it off, again, five minute response time. And two, I know how to fight. So let me stay here to wait for the person following me, or I'll call the Feds here. I'm not bluffing."

The man finally relented, muttering, "Fine. Just don't let anyone else who comes in here know. FBI being here isn't good for business."

Neal nodded, turning back to the window. "Can do."

And then, he saw his follower. His lips quirked upward into a smile as he watched the young woman glance around, and finally their eyes met. Still smiling, he walked out of the tattoo shop, coming to a stop in front of her.

"Hi, Neal," the young woman said with a smile.

Neal's eyes were amused as he looked at his half-sister. "Hello, Jenna."


	2. Snow White

"Nice place," Jenna said ten minutes later as she surveyed Neal's apartment penthouse. "How'd you con your way into this one?"

Neal smirked a little, knowing that she was only teasing him. "I charmed a lovely widow while in a thrift shop around the block," he said, referring to June Ellington, his landlady.

Jenna smiled and went to the wine shelf, pulling out a bottle. Neal went over and plucked the bottle from her hand, putting it behind his back.

"Nah-ah-ah," he said teasingly, shaking a finger at her. "You're not twenty-one for another 124 more days. I can't just be an irresponsible adult and let you drink this at will."

"Ha-ha," Jenna said, sticking her tongue out at him. She walked behind him and took the bottle, swatting his rear teasingly. "Thanks for the advice, Neal, but I'm sure I'll be fine." As she spoke, she went to the cabinet and took out two wine goblets and then went to the table.

"Come on, Neal," she said, opening up the bottle. "Lighten up a little – have a drink."

"I really shouldn't," Neal said. "I have work tomorrow."

She shrugged. "I'm sure Peter will understand when you say you were with a young woman."

"Ah, yes," Neal said, walking over. "I should've known you would look up what I was doing before you showed up."

"Yeah, it was pretty easy," Jenna said, pouring some wine into her glass. "FBI really needs to update their encryption. I got in in ten minutes flat."

Neal smirked. "Well, I don't think the FBI counted on someone who has been hacking places since she was three."

"They should," Jenna said, handing him the other goblet of wine. "FBI's supposed to count on everything. I could've been hacking in for the purpose of bringing down the U.S. government." She took a sip from her wine.

Neal sighed and set his goblet down on the table. He walked around to the other side of the table, resting his hands on the back of one of the chairs and looking at Jenna.

"Jenna," he said. "I know you didn't look me up and hack the FBI database to come and chat with me. What's wrong – what trouble did you get yourself into this time?"

Jenna sighed and gave him a little smile, setting down her own goblet. "That's right – nothing gets past you. I'm…I'm in some trouble, Neal."

Neal smirked a little. "Am I supposed to be surprised?"

"Neal, this is serious." Jenna said, and Neal knew by her expression that she _was _serious. "I conned some people a few months ago. I didn't think it would be that big, but…"

"Jenna, what con did you pull?" Neal asked her seriously.

Jenna sighed. "I pulled the Snow White one. I go in as a poor little girl, gain their trust, and then get the money right out from under their noses and book it."

"Yeah, I know how the con works," Neal said, pulling out the chair and sitting down.

"Well, this time, I kind of underestimated…their power." Jenna said, nervously tapping her fingertips on the back of the chair.

"How much money did you take, Jenna?" Neal asked her.

Jenna bit her lip and sat down across from her half-brother. "A hundred and fifty million."

Neal raised his eyebrows. "I imagine the people you took from weren't too happy about that."

Jenna gave a small laugh, though it lacked in humor. "Yeah. Now…they kind of want me dead."


	3. FanFICTION note

**Hey, guys. This isn't actually a real chapter, as you can tell, and I'll put up a real chapter soon, but I just wanted to get one thing clear...**

**This is FanFiction - that means FICTION. Not a lot of things would ever ACTUALLY happen, but that's why it's fun to write about this, because we all want to just get our ideas out there as stories and turn it into something we love. I don't know about you guys, but I'm proud of my stories. I like the feeling that I've accomplished something where people from more than 25 other countries can see what I've written.**

**I just got a review from someone that wasn't too kind in what they said, and it hurt. When I post a chapter, yes, some things will be very unrealistic, but that's the point, isn't it? When I write, it's like I'm making a story of something I wished happened to ME. Yeah, I might not want to have a few people out to kill me, but it's fun to write about how they figure out the problem and solve it, and put the bad guys where they belong. But some things that they do might be a little...out there. Some things are exaggerated, but that's what makes the story fun. You don't know what's going to happen, because really anything could happen.**

**Which is why I ask that you don't put mean reviews up for my story - or ANY story - because honestly? It doesn't help anyone - not the story, not the author, and not the person reading. If you don't like something, just say it, and tell me how you think it would be better, and frequently I'll change that part that you don't like or that you don't really think will help the story. Of course, when I say this I mean not from an ENTERTAINMENT point of view, but from a LITERATURE point of view. Sometimes I MIGHT keep it. Everyone's opinion is a valid opinion, and I feel that all opinions DO matter. Keeping this in mind I like valid LITERARYcritique, but an empty opinion is just that - empty. This is also MY story that I'm putting up for you guys to read and enjoy, and just because I put up something ****_fictional _****doesn't mean that I, as a person, am an idiot. I'd like it more if someone called the STORY stupid rather than that I'M stupid, but please have a reason for calling it such. **

**I'm not trying to come across as whiny just because I got ONE mean review, but I don't want to get anymore, so I'm just making this clear now - if you're going to criticize, make it constructive, and that way no one's feelings are hurt. **

**Thanks so much for reading, guys, and please respect me and OTHER FanFiction authors as well.**

**Thanks, **

**T.A.15**


	4. Jenna Meets Peter

"I can get Peter to help us," Neal said a while later as he paced about the apartment. "We don't even have to tell him who you are."

"No," Jenna said from where she lied on his bed. She sat up. "No Feds, Neal. The people after me will know I'm with them and be able to track me easier."

"We can do it off the books," Neal reasoned. "Peter's done it for me before."

"No, Neal." Jenna said firmly. "I don't want the Feds involved. I don't want to end up like you, with a two-mile radius to keep me in line."

"That's different, Jenna," Neal sighed. "Peter will help you, and if I ask him to, he'll turn a blind eye to your antics."

"So you and the Fed are like BFF's now." Jenna snorted. "It didn't say _that _in the file. What happened, Neal?"

"You know what happened," Neal sighed, sinking down on the couch.

"No. I only know that you busted out of Rikers and a week later, you're helping the FBI on a tracking anklet, Special Agent Peter Burke - the man who _originally _caught you - being your handler. I had no idea that you hit it off so well."

Neal rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't know...he grows on you. I know to start off with, all cons think of the Feds as...I don't know - bad, heartless, that sort of thing...but once you put yourself into their world and get to know them...they're just like us. In the essence of feelings, anyway. They really just do their job, and then go home to their family. Some things, they have that cons can _never _have, not unless we change."

Jenna gazed up at the ceiling. "It sounds like you've thought a lot about this." she said after a moment.

Neal gave a little shrug of admission. "He's saved my life several times over," he said after another moment. "And...I, him."

Jenna looked at him, and then stood up. "Well, I can respect that, I guess." she said a bit grudgingly. "But I still don't want him involved in this one."

Neal sighed. "Alright," he said after a moment. "I won't tell him, but I'll still help when I can."

Jenna gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Neal."

WCWCWC

Neal awoke the next morning to a knock at his bedroom door. His eyes shot open and he rolled off the couch, where he had slept the night before, having let Jenna sleep on the bed. He stood up, and she stood right next to him, eyes wide.

"Neal?" Peter's voice drifted through the door. Neal instantly relaxed, but Jenna tensed up even more, if possible.

"Go to the closet!" Neal hissed, pointing to the closet on the other side of the apartment. She ran on light feet over, going in and softly closing the door. Once she was done, Neal went to his door and opened it.

"Sorry, Peter - I slept through the alarm," Neal apologized.

"Uh-huh," Peter said in a way that let him know that he knew that something was up. He walked in and said, "It's alright - I can wait."

"Right," Neal said. "Give me ten minutes." He went over to the hallway that led to the closet and went in, closing the door behind him. He found Jenna in front of the mirror-window, looking out at Peter.

"I can't help you right now," Neal said to her as he pulled out a suit. "I need to go to work so that Peter doesn't get even more suspicious than he already is." He pulled on a white dress shirt and started buttoning it up.

Jenna nodded. "I'll see you when you get back, then," she said. Then her eyes widened as she looked out at Peter.

"What's wrong?" Neal asked her as he pulled on some pants.

"I forgot to grab the extra wine glass," she hissed. "He's noticed that someone else is here."

Neal pulled on a vest and buttoned it up. "I'm sure he'll believe me if I tell him that Mozzie was here."

She calmed down somewhat at this, and kept watching Peter as Neal tucked in his shirt, tied his tie, and pulled on the suit jacket. Then he went to the bathroom, coming back a few minutes later with his hair combed and teeth brushed white.

"Well?" he said with a smile. "How do I look?"

Jenna turned and looked at him. She smiled. "I like it. It suits you. No pun intended."

Neal buttoned his jacket as he said, "I'd better get going before Peter gets suspicious."

Neal walked back out to where Peter stood at the table.

"Was Mozzie here last night?" Peter asked before Neal could get a word in.

Neal nodded. "Mm-hm," he said with an innocent look.

"I don't believe you," Peter said, holding up a long strand of dark brown hair that definitely wasn't Neal's. "Hm...not enough blond in it to be Alex's, either." He gazed at Neal, question clear in his eyes.

"Look, Peter, it's no one," Neal said, stepping forward and taking the strand from him, and then put it in his pocket. "I'm not doing anything illegal, I promise. I'm just helping out a friend."

Peter eyed him, trying to gauge whether he was telling the truth or not. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he walked past Peter and out the door, going down the stairs. After a moment of gazing at the mirror that he knew was a window on the other side, he followed Neal out.

WCWCWC

_"...really, Peter, I'm not planning a con. You don't have to escort me all the way to my room."_

Jenna's eyes snapped open at Neal's voice coming up the stairs. She shot up from the couch and stood up as Peter's voice answered back, getting closer.

_"If you're not planning a con, you shouldn't mind that I'm looking for someone in your room."_

Jenna looked at her watch. It was only eleven-thirty – Neal wasn't supposed to be back until at least seven! She realized that Peter must have planned it this way so that she would think she was safe until then. She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes (she hadn't slept much the night before) as she grabbed her sneakers and ran to Neal's room, shutting herself in the wardrobe.

Just as the door clicked closed, the bedroom door opened, Peter and Neal coming in. She peered through the crack as thin as a spider's web, watching as Peter went to Neal's closet. Neal turned his head slightly and looked at the wardrobe where she hid, seeming to make direct eye contact with her. He shook his head slightly, telling her that she shouldn't hide there. Her eyes widened and she opened the door with the intention of climbing out the window.

But just as she closed the wardrobe door, Peter came back into the room, spotting her. He strode over to her and before she knew it, he was shaking her hand as he introduced himself.

"Hello," he said. "My name is Peter Burke."

"Peter, I can explain," Neal said, walking up behind him. He gave her a helpless look as she remained silent.

"I'm Jeni," she said, giving Peter a smile. "I'm Neal's cousin."


	5. The King Cobras

"So his mom is your aunt," Peter said later, processing what Jenna had told him.

Jenna nodded, crossing her legs. "Yep. Jay Caffrey, Amy's brother, is my dad. I'm surprised Neal hasn't ever mentioned me before."

"Well, Jeni, you haven't exactly contacted me a whole lot, either. Why mention you when I haven't seen you since you were in eighth grade?"

"Ouch," Jenna said, cringing. "I walked right into that one."

"I don't believe either of you," Peter stated. "You're not cousins, and Jeni's not your real name."

"It's close enough to her real one." Neal shrugged.

"Neal!" Jenna hissed.

"He figured it out," Neal argued. "There's no point in lying – it's just a waste of time."

"So who are you, really?" Peter asked, leaning back in the couch. "Another one of Neal and Mozzie's fences?"

"Come on, Peter," Neal sighed in exasperation. "You can't tell me that you don't see the resemblance between us."

"_Et tu, Brute?_" Jenna muttered as Peter looked back and forth between the two of them.

"So you _are _related?" he asked. Neal shrugged in response.

"We've got the same father," he said. "That's where she gets the eyes and the hair."

"Why didn't you come up when we looked into Neal?" Peter asked Jenna.

Jenna crossed her arms. "No comment," she grumbled.

"So _you're_ a con, too?" Peter said with raised eyebrows. Then he sighed. "Frankly, I'm not too surprised. It seems to run in the family."

Now Neal was angry. "What are you saying? That _we're _going to turn out as murderers, too?"

"Neal, that's not what I meant," Peter said, realizing what he had said. "I mean…I meant that she's a lot like you. Not like your dad."

Neal breathed in in an attempt to calm his angry feelings. "Right. Sorry."

Jenna had watched this altercation curiously, interested at the feelings between the Fed and the con. They argued, and then quickly got over it. She admired that, and decided that Peter wasn't a bad guy after all. So she interrupted what Peter was about to say, saying:

"I came to Neal for help – but not to run a con. He tried to convince me to go to you for help, but I made him promise not to tell you or any other Feds anything about me."

"What do you need help with?" Peter asked her, instantly in agent mode.

"First, allow me immunity – in return for helping you."

"Alright…" Peter said a bit hesitantly. "You've got immunity, now what are you going to help us with?"

"I'm going to help you catch the ring known as The King Cobras," Jenna said with a straight face.

Neal's eyes popped as he jumped to his feet, momentarily forgetting Peter's presence. "_That's _who wants to kill you?!" he almost yelled. "You got tangled with the _KC's_?! Why in the world would you do something so _stupid_?! God, Jenna, why didn't you tell me before?!"

"Because if I had, you would've gone to Peter and his friends no matter _what _you promised," Jenna said calmly.

"Damn right, I would've!" Neal yelled, still very riled up. "Why the _hell _would you get involved with _them_, let alone steal a hundred and fifty _million _from them?! And you didn't think it would be that _big_? You didn't think they'd know it was you and come _after_ you?! You're twenty years old, Jenna! You should think these things _through_ before you plunge right into the most _violent_ and _ruthless _mob in the Northern Hemisphere! Dammit, Jenna!"

"Neal, stop pretending to be my father," Jenna said as Neal paced about the room.

Neal turned to face her. "I wouldn't be _tempted _to if you didn't get yourself into such _stupid _situations like this and _acting _like a child! Damn!"

"In her defense, _you_ tend to plunge into things without thinking things through as well." Peter cut in. Neal whirled to face him.

"_I _don't get involved with mobs like the KC's, though, Peter!" he shouted, now angry at his partner. "I don't steal a hundred and fifty million bucks right out from under their noses and book it, thinking that they'll just _forget _about all of that money!"

"What's with all of the yelling?"

Neal turned back to the door, where Mozzie had just walked in, looking at all of them curiously. He saw Jenna sitting on the couch and nodded to her.

"Afternoon, Jenna." He said.

"Hey, Mozzie," she said. "Can you please try and calm Neal down for us? We're not getting anywhere with him."

"What's the problem?" Mozzie asked, walking over and sitting on the couch next to Jenna.

"She got involved with The _King Cobras_," Neal practically spat. "She stole a hundred and fifty million from under their noses and disappeared, and now they want her dead."

Mozzie let out a low whistle. "The KC's? that's huge, Jenna. Why would you do something so…foolish?"

Jenna only shrugged.

"Dammit, Jenna," Neal sighed, turning away from all of them as he tiredly rubbed his hands over his face. He walked over to the wine bottle on the table and poured himself a glass, downing it in a couple of gulps and pouring another glass. He stayed over at the table as Mozzie spoke.

"He's not really angry at you, Jenna – at least not too much. He's probably just more worried about what's going to happen to you."

"How are we going to get these guys, though?" Peter asked Jenna.

Neal turned around. "You asked for my help. I'm going to do everything in my power to get these guys out of your hair. I've got a plan."

"What is it?" Peter asked a little warily, recognizing the determined look on his partner's face.

Neal looked at each of them in turn. "These guys want their money. What would they think about a new man in their ranks whose day job is working at the bank?"


	6. Undercover Op

chapter05

Neal smiled to himself as he walked out of the warehouse. He adjusted his black leather jacket to block the wind from making him cold. Once he got a few blocks away from the warehouse, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Peter's number, holding it to his ear.

"I'm in," he said. "They bought the story."

"What story, exactly, did you tell?" he heard Jenna ask, and knew he was on speakerphone.

"I told them that I had a bit of a vendetta against Jasmina Wong…"

"My alias when I was with them," he heard Jenna explain to Peter.

"…and when they admitted to the same, I told them we should join forces. I would get the money for them from the bank, plus a little extra, and in return, they would 'allow'me to invoke my revenge on Jenna _without _their 'help', as long as I promised them that she would die slowly and painfully, of course."

"Of course," Jenna murmured.

"'Joining forces' implies that you've got a whole gang of bad guys behind you," Peter said a little nervously, stuck on Neal's previous comment.

"Oh, yes – didn't I explain that part to you? I guess not." Neal sounded smug as he said, "I've got a whole slew of FBI agents who I'm going to be 'the boss' of for this case."

WCWCWC

Hughes looked skeptical as Neal explained the plan to him, Peter standing silently behind him.

"The FBI has wanted these guys for years," Neal was saying. "Lots of agents have gone after them with no leads. It only seems fair for lots of agents to be in on it, and pretend to be under my command."

"The key word being 'pretend'," Peter cut in.

Neal nodded. "Yes. Just while I'm around the KC's, I'm the boss."

"And why you?" Hughes demanded, leaning forward in his desk as he fixed Neal with a stare. "Why not another agent?"

Neal shrugged. "I know…_different_ things, things that are more helpful than what the most skilled FBI agents would know. I know how to play these guys, how to give them what they want but get out of a tight situation if I needed to while still keeping my cover. And, I've already shown my face and gotten on the inside."

Hughes thought about it for a moment, and then sighed. "Alright, Caffrey. How many agents will you need to pull this off?"

WCWCWC

Neal showed up at the warehouse three days later, nineteen FBI agents following behind him. All of them were in disguise, mostly black leather and jeans, with a few in suits sprinkled in here and there. Neal's jacket was of the best quality, distinguishing him as boss from the others.

Craig Weston, the head of the KC's, met them inside, flanked by four bodyguards. He cordially shook Neal's hand, cold eyes evaluating him.

"I understand you are the man who's going to take care of Jasmina?" he said it more of a statement than a question.

Neal nodded without smiling, and Jones, his 'bodyguard', noticed that the spark in Neal's eyes was hidden behind a mask of cold calculation. He briefly wondered what memory Neal was thinking of to keep that callousness there.

"Yes," Neal said in a stone cold voice. "She…gave me many problems." Jones noticed that Neal had a slight British accent as he spoke, and was reminded once again of what a wonderful actor he was.

Weston nodded in understanding. "I see," he said, glancing over the people behind Neal. "I also see that you brought your crew."

Neal lifted a shoulder of indifference. "Some of them," he said smoothly, and Weston raised his eyebrows.

"Although, something has occurred to me, something that must be cleared up before we go any further," Weston said, glaring over the agents with calculation. Neal kept his expression smooth, though he worried that Weston had realized that something was wrong. His stomach flip-flopped as he said:

"And what's that, Weston?"

Weston looked back at him through slightly narrowed eyes. "You say you can take care of Jenna thoroughly, and make sure she ends up…out of our hair."

Neal nodded affirmably. "I can."

He pulled the gun out of the holster on his chest and handed it to Neal. "Prove it, then."

Neal raised his eyebrows. "Pardon?"

Weston rolled his eyes. "Kill one of your men,"' he said deliberately. "You don't have to make it slow – I just want to see if you have enough spine to kill someone."

Neal raised an eyebrow, and then sort of scoffed. "Alright, Weston – whatever you say." He turned around and pointed the gun at Peter. A few agents' eyes widened, but Neal ignored them and aimed the gun straight at Peter's heart, releasing the safety and pulling the trigger before anyone else could react.

Peter slammed back onto the ground, red spilling from his chest. In moments, he was still.

A few of the agents glanced between Peter and Neal, but Neal didn't react as he turned back around and gave the still smoking gun back to Weston, who was smiling in satisfaction.

"Get him out of here," Neal said to Jones, still looking at Weston. Jones nodded and went back to get Peter's body out of the warehouse.

"Are you satisfied, Weston?" Neal said coldly. "I killed one of my men, just like you asked."

Weston nodded. "I am very satisfied."


	7. Not Dead

Neal smiled as he walked into his apartment. Jenna stood up from the table, where she sat with Mozzie.

"I take it that it went down good?" she said with a trace of anxiety.

Neal nodded still smiling as Peter walked in behind him. "It went off without a hitch."

"You were right about the test," Peter added. "Apparently I'm dead now."

Jenna nodded. "I figured he would do something like that for someone new," she said, sitting back down. "I've seen him do it a couple of times before."

"What did you have to do for him to trust you – in the beginning?" Peter asked her suspiciously, and a little warily.

Jenna snorted. "Relax, Burke – I didn't kill anyone. I only claimed to be the daughter – and personal assistant, of sorts – of Young-Soo Wong."

"Who's he?" Peter asked.

She smirked. "That's just it. Only people in these…_other _circles…have heard of him – he's _that_ good. Basically, he's a hit man."

Peter looked suspicious and still a little wary, but Neal and Mozzie were nodding, having heard of the hit man before.

"Come on, Burke," Jenna said, humor fading from her expression as she spoke. "I don't hurt people in my jobs."

"She works like how Neal does," Mozzie explained. "Through charm and wit."

Peter nodded, accepting this when Neal didn't add anything.

"Alright," he said with a sigh. "I suppose if Neal trusts you…"

"What now?" Jenna asked.

Peter shrugged. "Neal will pretend to look for you, and after a little bit, tell them that he got the money and that he's found you. He'll hand over the money, and a few days later tell them you're dead. We'll have to get a few pictures of you looking like you're all beat up and bloody, and then you dead. They'll be satisfied, and we can move on."

Jenna smiled and stood up. "Well," she said. "Let's go and put this plan into action."

**So, sorry for the super short chapter, but I'm trying not to rush through this story. I don't want the case to seem too easy to wrap up...anyway, I'm not going to be able to update until Sunday, because I basically had this bet with my mom that I really WASN"T addicted to the computer, so to prove it, I have to be off of it for a week...:( But I promise that it will be updated on Sunday by about 3:00 or 4:00, Arizona time. I'll see ya'll then! Please review!**


	8. The Gun Goes Off

**Okay…sorry, guys, that I updated this later than I thought – I had to update my other fics, too…and, since I don't know ****_how_**** to write this without rushing through it…well…I'll rush through it. So that's why I pretty much just skipped ten days in the story – things probably happened between Neal and the bad guys, but I don't know what. But, now the bad guys trust him and the FBI can move in soon…**

_Ten days later_

Neal smiled as he walked up to Craig Weston. It was almost over. After today, everything could go back to normal, as long as everything went down right. He'd already given them the money a week before - the money that Jenna had taken, plus another ten thousand from the FBI.

He handed Weston a folder, smirking. "I got her," he told the crime lord as he opened the folder. There were several photos inside of Jasmina Wong, bloody, bruised, broken, and dead. In the photos, Neal stood over her, his expression shrouded in shadow but the camera still caught enough to see the murderous glare that he gave the girl. His knuckles were bloody, but he looked calm nonetheless; cold, indifferent. What Weston didn't know was that all of those pictures were posed. The last picture showed her throat cut, eyes open, clearly dead.

Weston smiled cruelly and looked at Neal. "I thank you for your service," he said, closing the folder and putting it inside his jacket. "But now..."

As he spoke, he pulled his hand back out from his jacket, revealing a gun...

"...our business is over," he finished, pointing the gun at Neal's chest and pulling the trigger once, twice, three times.

Neal's eyes widened, and everything seemed to go silent, distant, echoing, as he felt the bullets slam into his chest multiple times. He looked down at the holes in his shirt, as warm, red liquid began to flow out. He looked up at Weston, his expression shocked. His breath expelled from his lungs slowly, slowly...

His eyes fluttered, and he fell to the ground.

WCWCWC

Peter heard the gunshots, and immediately he grabbed the radio and spoke into it.

"Gunshots fired," he barked urgently. "All teams, move in!" He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and pulled it on as he ran out the back door of the van. When he got there, the agents were already inside the building, arresting several of the members of the King Cobras. He scanned the room for Neal, and soon saw him leaning against a crate, out of the way of everyone else. He held a hand to his chest as he breathed deeply in and out, Jones kneeling beside him, seemingly coaching him. He walked over to him.

"Good thing you were wearing that vest," Peter said to Neal.

"Yeah," Neal agreed with a slight wheeze in his breath. Then he muttered, "I hate being shot. Why am _I _always the one that's shot?"

"Neal," Peter said, "This is the first time you've been _actually _shot."

"Working with _you_, yes." Neal corrected him, and then shut his mouth, realizing what he'd said.

"Something you'd like to share with us, Neal?" Peter teased.

"Just so that you know," Neal said, "Anything I say under duress cannot be held against me."

Jones smirked. "Yeah, 'cause a bruise on your chest is very life-threatening."

Neal sulked, and Peter laughed. But then Neal's eyes popped open wide.

"He's gone," he said suddenly.

"What are you talking about, Neal?" Peter asked.

Neal looked around the warehouse, scanning the hordes of criminals and agents. "Weston," he said after a minute of searching. He looked up at Peter, clear panic in his eyes. "Peter, Weston escaped."


End file.
